Think you can facilitate my aims here, good buddy?" I said."That's what I do best," he said. "He pointed to a picture of himself behind the bar with a...tag under it that spelled it out: The Great Facilitator. He'd gotten the idea from former President Reagan's unofficial title of The Great Communicator; well, that's what he told everybody.The night dragged on, and after a very short time I was just draggin'."Last call," he said. I'd been sitting there except for potty breaks for the past five. "Robin placed her phone on the desk. Uncle Taylor missed her... him...whatever. She didn't care about pronouns at this point. He was lonely.She was lonely. Both of them wanted nothing more than to just talk andshe couldn't do a donut thing.He was just checking on her. He wanted to see how she was doing. Tooffer advice. And to just hear Robert's voice. To have contact with thelast family he had. Why hadn't she just listened to him and found acloser college? Why did she have to insist on going. Sliding my finger between my pussy lips, I was getting even wetter and I couldn't help myself from moaning out loud. It was at this point I heard a little groan from outside. Not realising what it was I carried on sliding my fingers through my lips, playing with my clit. I wriggled out of my shorts and panties and opened my legs up wide. I slid a finger into my pussy and started finger fucking myself. Biting my lips, I tried to keep my moans down but every now and then one would escape. I. Cells were placed on the wall facing the street in the basement. The main area had our hooks and tables placed in it, a St. Andrews cross built into the wall. This year would be truly relaxing and purifying.Around 6 we headed out, 3 of us in our van. The cheap panels had been pulled off the van and steel plating had been welded onto the frame. No rounds can punch through this beast. We certainly made sure the engine was protected, saw a dumbass last year who drove into a gang and ended up with.